Tuesday, April 24, 2012

As I sit at our dining room table to write my first words in five months, I am realizing just how much I've missed writing about both my personal and professional life experiences. Though my family and close friends may know my reasons for this unplanned break, you, my friends and readers from StorytellERdoc, do not. So instead of diving head-first into writing a funny, planned posting, I thought I might simply change course to write and say "hello" and "how the hell are you" to each of you.

Let me briefly explain my absence. Simply, I began to have some vision problems last November, ultimately resulting in urgent surgery. Always the doctor and never the patient, this was my first real health scare. Following successful eye surgery, I was forced to take a few months time to recover. This break included absolutely no gym time and, most odd for me, no work time. Looking back on my career, I had never had so much as a week or two break from working in the ER. This inactivity, at first painfully frustrating, ultimately proved to be one of the greatest learning experiences thus far in my life.

For the first few weeks following surgery, I had to wear an eye patch, a blue, oval-shaped piece of perforated aluminum paper-taped to my face. With this new accessory, I spent much time in front of the mirror, looking to find that invincible, healthy fellow I once was. I couldn't find him. Friends tried to make me feel better, telling me I looked "sexier" with an eye-patch, but I saw through their flimsy compliment--the only way to look sexier, I reasoned while laughing with them, was to have sexy to begin with. My kids, hesitant at first, realized that patch or no patch, I was still the same Dad that I had always been. In fact, soon after surgery, Cole had a basketball game that I wanted to attend. "Cole," I asked, "is it okay if I come to your game with my patch or would you rather I stay home?" Without even a hint of pause, his resounding reply inspired me. "Of course you are coming, Dad, why wouldn't you?"

After several weeks, I was able to lose the eye patch. More importantly, with healing and some serious introspection and reflection, I was able to regain my perspective of what is most important in this journey of life. Family. Friends. Humor. Love. Compassion and kindness. Living a purposeful life.

Part of this time away included reevaluating my job differently. Although I still considered kindness and compassion at the forefront of my ER interactions with patients and their families, even I was not immune to a growing cynicism that occasionally seems to be pervading our medical field. Maybe this had even leaked itself into some previous writings. Luckily, though, I feel more privileged than I ever have, since residency even, in walking the halls of our emergency department and providing care to such a diverse and unique collection of patients. Of course, there will always be patients that are obnoxiously difficult, but my reserve to find something good in each and every patient has definitely been refueled. I've been honestly warned, however, by several of my hard-working partners. "Just give it a few months, Jim," they said, "and then see if you feel the same way about things." I can only hope that I have some great staying-power. I feel I do.

Being a patient, I have also learned and witnessed first-hand just how important a role a doctor can play in one's recovery. Luckily, I am surrounded by four absolutely incredible individuals who have prioritized being a compassionate person first and playing a doctor second, proving that one doesn't need to place himself on a pedestal to be amazing at what he can do. This all-star team of providers, however, did not come without some rearranging on my part. I removed from my team, so to speak, one nationally-recognized specialist who was less than stellar in both his personality and in his style of delivering unwanted news. Although this specialist may have been quite good at what he does, I was less than impressed with his all-around abilities to communicate. To heal well and remain positive throughout my ordeal, I insisted on only being surrounded by similar individuals.

Overall, I have much to be thankful for. An almost complete recovery. A supportive family. Supportive friends. And supportive co-workers. What could have been a terrible outcome was not. For this reason, I will always be humble and grateful. Returning to work, I was greeted with many kindnesses and friendly, encouraging words. Hugs included. I also returned to some sadness as well. One of my favorite nurses, Sue, tragically lost her son during my absence. My ordeal embarrassingly pales in comparison to this tragic event of her life. To hug her and share tears with her as she attempted to give me a warm welcome-back smile speaks volumes of her strength and character.

So there you have it. Officially, I have now returned to my life as I know it. Playing doctor full-time. Playing Dad full-time. Attempting to be a writer again. And, most importantly, continuing to look at my wife with complete wonderment, appreciating more than ever her infinite strength, support and love. Except for the glasses outwardly, my most significant changes from my ordeal have come from within. For this, I am most appreciative. I am stronger than ever, actually. As Ralph wisely stated above, the small day-to-day battles were worth the positive hindsight of it all.

It feels so very good to be back...

As always, I thank you much for reading, my friend. More importantly, I thank you for your patience and returning to read my words.

57 comments:

FF
said...

I've long enjoyed your blog and often wondered the past few months where you've been. This heartfelt post was beautifully written and I'm glad to hear you are back, and healthy. Best wishes, and thank you.

So good to hear that you are on the mend and recovering enough to go back to the regular life we all miss when stuff like this happens. May your recovery continue and your life's changes reamin important.

Although I was missing your writing, I had assumed you were frantically working on a book, so I was happy for you. I am sorry to hear that the reality was less pleasant. Hope your return to work and life almost as usual is good. Hope you carry on recovering and that your health is fully restored.Take care!

Oh, my, something happened also to your pen, Dr. Captain America, because this is THE MOST lucid, articulate, natural, lovely writing you have ever produced. Wow. Took my breath away. I wish you could see even just a fraction of the change in your writing that I have been witness to.

So glad to see you bacl again.I've been a long time lurker and I don't comment very often as I am not very fluent in english.

I went to check for blog updates ever so often and eventually got that uneasy feling that you have when you drive by a friends house and and the curtains are always closed and you start to worry what the hell ist going on.

Good to hear that is 'just' a temporary illness that kept you from sharing your wonderful stories of compassion.

I did a double take when I saw your name appear on my blogroll. I think it might have been last week I was thinking, "Gosh, I miss Jim's posts." So it's good to see you back. Sorry to hear about the trauma you've been through and about Sue's son as well. Keep pushing through that writing rust. Clearly at least nineteen of us are still sitting here patiently waiting. ;-)

Thank you so much for returning to your blog. I'm sorry for what you went through, but I appreciate the honesty you express in this post, as usual. As I continue through medical school, you serve as a reminder of why I joined this profession. Your voice is a welcome contradiction to many others out there who are, as you point out, much more cynical.

I'm so sorry you had your eyesight compromised and had to go through all of that. What a blessing to be surrounded by such loving, compassionate and positive people in your life.

"With this new accessory, I spent much time in front of the mirror, looking to find that invincible, healthy fellow I once was. I couldn't find him" Those words moved me greatly, because that is how I feel with what I've been struggling with and silent about for the most part until last post and will be more forthcoming in the next one. But ..also because of the other health challenges in recent years too. this is your post and don't want to digress, but just that I have been afraid I was losing who I always was and don't want to be seen as less than in any way. Too complicated to say here ..but Jim ..your words spoke to me.

What a great son. Indicative of his loving parenting, I'm sure. I know how you felt here too and my family has responded as your son did.

It's interesting at how much more compassion we gain when having been on the provider side of patient care ...we then become the patient who has experienced a significant health challenge ..or endured a chronic health challenge.

Sounds like you have an excellent ED team. Your patients are blessed.

I am sorry to hear about your coworker's son. I wish her healing, peace and sweet memories replacing her grief.

I missed your words, Dr. Jim. I'm so glad that you've recovered from your health scare and that you're back with us, writing and sharing from your unique perspective. Your kindness and humanity shine through every word. Welcome back!

Wow, so glad you're back! I've missed you and just randomly checked in here today. I'm sorry to hear you needed eye surgery but glad it was successful. I know just what you mean about looking in the mirror. My issues have been very minor, but they showed me I am not invincible. Not sure why I thought I was in the first place, but there you go. I'm very much looking forward to hearing from you again soon.

I enjoy reading your blog, a daily routine of our everyday life. The most important about our self is our health.I'm very much concern of your health so that I can read more interesting blogs from you.

Glad to read your posts again. I was worried that Cynicism had won. I am glad it was "just" a health crisis. Laugh! I hope you know what I mean. I'm not making light of your issue, but am very grateful that you did not succumb to insurmountable cynicism.

I would like to send a prayer shawl to your co-worker, the nurse who lost her son. I think you can figure out how to reach me via this comment. If not, then it wasn't meant to be. But if it's to be, then you will be able to find a way to tell me how to send her a prayer shawl. She will be deeply on my heart. My parents buried two sons (and I two brothers... when I was 20 and 40). It's unthinkable heart-break. If a prayer shawl could ease her burden even the tiniest bit, it would be my honor to prayer for her peace as I knit, crochet, or sew one.

I know that you owe nothing to me - a non-medical person from England - but I just want to say that I've often checked your blog for updates (from my work computer) because I value the insight you can provide.

The last couple of weeks, I've been on a medical LOA from being a hospital social worker. Huge adjustment from a crazy busy environment to not being able to do much as I recover from surgery. I just wanted to say how much I have enjoyed and appreciated reading your blog. You have an eloquent way of expressing the day-to-day adventures we face in an ED setting!

Back-To-Back Winner, 2009 & 2010 Best Literary Medical Weblog

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About Me

I am a father of three. I am an ER physician of 16 years. I am a son, a brother, an uncle, a cousin, a nephew, and a friend, always. I am an athlete. I am small-town. I live in a big town. I am from a large, forestry family. I miss my mother's voice. I enjoy life's simpler, mundane moments. I am humbled daily. I am privileged with many blessings in my life. I am a writer.

Disclaimer

The events and encounters described in this blog are for general discussion and amusement only. They should be considered fiction. Nothing written here should be constituted as medical advice. Although the events of this blog contain certain elemental truths, every attempt has been made to protect patient confidentiality. Names, dates, location, and identifying features have been changed or fictionalized for that reason. The author reserves the right to embellish to make a good story great. All opinions expressed herein are those of the author only. All content is copyright of the author. Please do not reproduce or copy in part or whole without his expressed permission.